DANSE
by Valentine Michel Smith
Summary: SV eppy. Clark Kent meets a pop icon and gets more than he bargained for. Contains some ChloeClark moments and Pete has lines! Usual disclaimers apply.
1. DANSE PART ONE

FADE IN:  
  
INT. METROPOLIS CLUB – NIGHT  
  
Smokey, textured by glass and chrome that reflects and refracts brightly colored neon. LOUD is an understatement. The din of conversations contends with infectious beats (a few Gen Y'ers speaker dance). Overstuffed with too many too hip patrons – women in too tight clothing that covers too little, men looking too, too much like Abercrombie & Fitch model wannabes.  
  
Chloe, Clark and Pete step through the entrance, their movements tentative. Of the three, Chloe's attire rates a possible "could blend" into the crowd, Pete's a "maybe," and Clark's, our sweet Clark, clad in a long-sleeved polo shirt, rates a "NFW." However, as a group, the trio appears mildly out of place, very much like Dorothy after the tornado whisked her into Munckinland.  
  
CHLOE  
(disbelieving; shouts above the music)  
I don't think we're in Smallville anymore.  
  
Pete catches the eye of a woman who's almost as tall as Clark. Or was "she" a "he"?  
  
Pete tosses his head, nodding "hello." The "woman" returns the gesture with a coquettish smile.  
  
PETE  
(shouts; to Clark, watching the "woman" disappear into the crowd)  
How'd you find out about this place?  
  
CLARK  
(shouts)  
Lex.   
  
CHLOE  
(shouts)  
Good ol' Lex.   
(notices Pete has his eye on another impossibly tall woman – with an Adam's apple)  
And what made Lex think we'd be interested in a night of debauchery? Because clearly that's what we're in for.  
  
PETE  
(turns to Chloe, shouts)  
Chloe, I've known you since you came to town, and I'm only now commenting on this so understand it's probably way past time: have you always been wound tighter than a corkscrew? Or is this a recent development, linked to the onset of adolescence?   
(shakes her good naturedly)  
C'mon, girlfriend, let go,   
(sings)  
feel the rhythm of the niiii-haaa-iiite.  
  
CLARK  
Yeah, Chloe... Leggo...  
  
Clark takes her hand in his and leads her to the dance floor.   
  
Clark shakes his groove thang – and quite expertly – right in front of Chloe... Holy... Clark Kent – _dancing machine_? Slow dancing's one thing but this...   
  
Chloe watches appreciatively before following suit.   
  
Pete joins the fun before being distracted by another hottie. He stops, turns. This time, the "woman" in question may actually be a woman. In any event, at least this one's shorter.  
  
CLARK  
(shouts)  
As for Lex, he said we should be able to get in. Sort of a lax ID policy at the door.  
  
Pete cops this woman's number and returns his attention to his friends. He sees the look in Chloe's eyes.  
  
PETE  
(senses her internal struggle and rising discomfort; an admonishment)  
Chloe…  
  
Chloe knows the tone. She tries to find a comfort zone, hey, she's out, she's with friends, plenty of eye candy… And there's yumptious Clark Kent, backin' his motor up right toward her.  
  
CHLOE  
(Clark spins around)  
Clark Kent, you are just FULL of surprises...  
  
Nope. Nope. NOPE... Won't give in... Will so NOT give in... Chloe and Clark have only recently mended a fence – a few posts are still in need of repair. It's much too soon to forgive and much too much to forget. Too much much.  
  
Chloe discovers an "exit" strategy to put the brakes on her softening anger. Kent "motor" (and "oy" what a fine motor it is) be damned. She focuses and determines every road really leads straight to "what the hell is this place and why am I here?" Fun? Meh.  
  
Chloe stops dancing abruptly.  
  
CHLOE  
(shouts)  
Do your parents know you're here?  
(Clark slows down but doesn't stop dancing and avoids her gaze)  
Clark Kent, you – I can't even said it.  
  
Ok, now the evening has some promise. She can be amused and maintain the appropriate emotional distance.  
  
Invigorated, Chloe starts dancing again.  
  
PETE  
(but he can say it; shouts)  
You   
(there's a break in the music; the verb hangs in the air as Pete's voice lingers)  
lied.  
  
All three stop simultaneously.  
  
CLARK  
(all reasoned out)  
Not precisely.  
  
PETE  
What did you tell them?  
  
CLARK  
That I was going out with you and Chloe.  
  
Clark start dancing again. As does Pete – with another hottie.  
(Yes, "she" is a "she.")  
  
CHLOE  
And where precisely did you tell them you were going?  
  
CLARK  
I didn't.  
  
Chloe grins broadly and starts dancing again.  
  
CHLOE  
Discovery of the loophole in the lie canon. Very impressive. I didn't know you had it in you.  
  
CLARK  
Thank you. I think. Lex also gave me a "heads up" about Sheridan.  
  
Clark dances very close to Chloe. Chloe wants to give in, but she's still making him prove himself. Clark started the stupid argument. It's his own fault.   
  
So why does she feel like she's suffering?   
  
Chloe stops dancing. As does Clark.  
  
CHLOE  
Sheridan.   
  
PETE  
(dreamy; still dancing)  
Sher-i-dan.   
(eager)  
She doesn't usually do shows in places like this.  
  
CHLOE  
(huh?)  
Sheridan?  
  
The music rises, then:  
  
ANNOUNCER  
And now, it's my pleasure to bring you – SHERIDAN!  
  
CHLOE  
No last name. Just "Sheridan."  
  
PETE  
Shhh!  
  
CHLOE  
What the heck is a "Sheridan"? Is it like a Madonna? Or –  
  
PETE  
As a matter of fact, if you had interest in anything other than persistent weirdness, you might know that yes, she is very much like Madonna… At least in terms of popularity and –  
  
CHLOE  
(throw me a rope - I'm drowning)  
- maybe more like a Cher...?  
  
CLARK  
(not serious)  
Shhh!  
  
But Chloe's already been silenced. As has the rest of the crowd.   
  
A silhouette, female, commanding has taken a spot on the stage just as Pete turns his attention back.  
  
The lights go down. The music builds...  
  
And the crowd goes wild as the lights come up on SHERIDAN.  
  
Pete's jaw drops and Clark, well, let's just say Clark's (surprisingly) positively mesmerized. Chloe watches them both curiously, then feels the pull, turning her attention back to the stage...  
  
Sheridan definitely not someone you ignore. She's adored - and knows it.  
  
Sheridan pauses for dramatic effect, making eye contact with the crowd, milking the whistles and catcalls and applause before taking the mike, and, as she takes center stage, we discover she's very good at workin' what her mama gave her.  
  
SHERIDAN  
(sings)  
Where have all the good men gone  
and where are all the gods?  
Where's the streetwise Hercules  
to fight the rising odds?  
Isn't there a white knight  
upon a fiery steed?  
Late at knight I toss and I turn  
and I dream of what I need –   
(the crowd erupts, cheering)  
I NEED A HERO!  
  
Not that Clark isn't swept into the group frenzy, but he is who he is… He notices a tiny red dot smack in the middle of Sheridan's forehead.   
  
Clark looks around the room, not sure but suspecting it's something like…a beam from a laser sight. Instant confirmation as he hears the squeeze of a trigger and the sound a bullet being discharged.  
  
Clark doesn't stop to think about it. He moves fast, but not so fast as to cause problems later. He leaps onto the stage, twisting, grabbing Sheridan and knocking her to the ground just as –  
  
- a bullet whizzes by, narrowly missing him and EXPLODING the speaker behind them. The ruined component projectiles mesh, wire, metal, fiberglass and plastic, raining fractured innards over everything – and everyone - in the immediate vicinity.  
  
Then –  
  
ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE.   
  
Patrons are suddenly everywhere, including the stage where Clark continues to huddle protectively atop the singer.  
  
Security rushes the stage pitching stage divers back to the floor.  
  
Chloe and Pete lunge for the nearest cover (a toppled table).   
  
Chaos, uncontrolled and absolute, reigns. Glasses shatter. Bodies are hurled. Furniture splinters. Screams...  
  
The violence, confusion and abandon builds to a crescendo, yielding to an eventual and grudging return to civility.   
  
Security – both club and hired - clears the stage and takes note of Sheridan, her body almost completely obscured by Clark's. She peers out from under her rescuer and stays Security with a look.  
  
SHERIDAN  
(unfazed; to Clark)  
Do I know you?  
  
Embarrassed, Clark removes himself from the singer and gently helps her to her feet.   
  
Clark turns his attention back to the balcony. Additional security staff and a pair of bodyguards are already there. The shooter's nowhere to be seen.   
  
Clark scans the room. No luck. Whoever it was is long gone.  
  
INT. DRESSING ROOM HALLWAY  
  
Clark and Sheridan walk down the hall. Pete and Chloe are behind them, keeping a respectful distance. Sheridan opens the dressing room door, affording Clark entry as his friends are halted by security. Chloe and Pete raise their arms as they're swept by hand held metal detectors.   
  
Chloe looks up in time to see Clark and Sheridan disappear behind the closed door of the dressing room beyond them, her face yielding a mix of unwanted though undeniable emotions.  
  
INT. DRESSING ROOM  
  
Cristal champagne chills in a silver bucket. Sheridan emerges in full diva mode – elegant in silk lounge ensemble that's sexy without being revealing as it rides along terrain that hints aptly of the woman beneath the wear. Someone else could easily look like a caricature or wannabe, but Sheridan wears the outfit like she was born in it.  
  
Sheridan pours; Clark sits, fidgeting nervously in a corner chair. Though we know otherwise, in the presence of this pop phenomenon, Clark seems very small, very childlike.  
  
This gives Sheridan pleasure.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Clark…  
(as if on second thought but really just a tease)  
How old are you?  
  
CLARK  
(coughs)  
Twen-twenty one.  
  
SHERIDAN  
If you say it  
(hands Clark glass; watches him intently)  
it must be so.  
  
He's a bold one, this Clark Kent. Bold in that teenage boy – you ain't fooling me – kind of way. As Sheridan pours herself a glass, her eyes linger. Clark realizes he has but one option. He decides against the truth, opting instead to take a sip.  
  
Sixteen is not a good year for "suave." The champagne travels from the glass to Clark's lips, and continues – to his nose. He sputters, bobbling the glass. He's quickly wearing more champagne than he's drunk.   
  
SHERIDAN  
Oh my.  
  
Clark looks meekly to Sheridan.  
  
SHERIDAN  
We can't have you sitting around in a near arctic clime in a wet shirt now can we?   
(moves to help Clark remove polo shirt)  
It's one of my quirks… Like the cold. At least, before a show.  
  
CLARK  
(struggles feebly against Sheridan)  
Really it's not that big a –  
  
Off comes the shirt. And ummmm.  
  
Sheridan gets an eyeful of Clark. _Bare chested_.  
  
More _ummmm_.   
  
SHERIDAN  
(surprised – and impressed)  
Ooooh my…   
  
Clark's still trying to get the shirt back. Sheridan playfully keeps it from him.   
  
SHERIDAN  
You're… embarrassed?   
(Clark tries to cover himself; she giggles)  
It's been a long time since I embarrassed a man… It feels… good…   
  
I think the last time it happened… I was in… _high school_. So hero, how old are you – really?  
  
There's an urgent KNOCK on the door before anyone can answer. Chloe and Pete burst into the room, Chloe reflexively shooting daggers at a beefy bodyguard as she enters.   
  
Sheridan sizes the pair up, then:  
  
SHERIDAN  
(to bodyguard)  
It's all right.  
  
Sheridan watches as Chloe's attention turns almost instantly to the dressing room tableau – champagne, seductively clad woman, and one of her best friends… _with his shirt on the floor…_ Sheridan suppresses a smirk, crosses to a closet. She selects a replacement, tosses it to Clark.  
  
Clark catches the shirt, hastily buttoning it. It's lovely on him (could easily be one from Pinks of London). Sheridan looks on approvingly, noting Clark's continued shyness and the jealousy that flits across Chloe's features. Sheridan soaks it all in.  
  
SHERIDAN  
You two wouldn't happen to be -  
  
CHLOE & CLARK  
No. Not –  
  
Clark and Chloe exchange a glance. Speaking in unison are we?  
  
SHERIDAN  
Hmmmmmm...  
  
Sheridan retrieves Clark's shirt from the floor.  
  
SHERIDAN  
(regards shirt, then)  
I'm so sorry. You'd think with all the glasses of champagne I've handled, I could avoid spilling things on people.  
(looks to Chloe; shrugs)  
Guess I'm just a klutz.  
  
Chloe takes a moment to process the new information. Eventually, she jettisons "envy," in favor of impassive (though mildly confused) reporter mode.  
  
CHLOE  
Clark? Is there something we should know?  
  
Pete, who's been excitedly scanning the area, can't contain himself any longer. He's like a shaken can of soda – and somebody just popped the top.  
  
Pete introduces himself with all the vigor of a rabid fan – and then some.  
  
PETE  
(shaking Sheridan's hand too eagerly)  
Ms…. Sheridan. Can I call you Sheridan? I just want to say I have every one of your cds. Even the limited edition Power cd… You are da bomb.   
(how lame was that?)  
But – I'm sure you hear that all the time.  
  
SHERIDAN  
(enigmatically)  
Not exactly. In those words.  
  
Pete hasn't heard a thing Sheridan's said. He's too busy basking in diva glow and making mental pictures for later.  
  
CHLOE  
(to Clark)  
The police want to ask you a few questions.   
  
CLARK  
About?  
  
CHLOE  
Like how you knew –  
  
CLARK  
Chloe, I didn't "know". I just –   
  
SHERIDAN  
(to Chloe)  
- found me irresistible at precisely the right moment.  
(to Clark)  
Good luck is a good thing to have. You can talk to the police tomorrow. Right now, would you mind walking me home? I feel like I owe you something.  
  
CHLOE  
(mutters)  
Yeah…uh, your life.  
  
SHERIDAN  
(heard that - to Chloe's amazement)  
True –   
  
CHLOE  
(gulp)  
- Chloe.  
  
SHERIDAN  
I do owe young Mr. Kent my life.  
  
Sheridan's manager, ARTIE appears. He regards the trio suspiciously then:  
  
ARTIE  
Sheridan, the limo's here.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Chloe and Pete are riding in the limo. It's a nice night. Clark and I are going to walk to the loft.  
  
ARTIE  
Do you really think that's advisable gi–  
  
SHERIDAN  
- Maybe. Maybe not. We'll see.  
(to Clark)  
Just give me a minute to change.  
  
Sheridan exits, handing Chloe Clark's shirt on the way out.   
  
SHERIDAN  
Be a love and hold onto this, would you?  
  
The limo driver enters. Chloe and Pete take the cue to leave, albeit hesitantly. Chloe lingers, looks to Clark who's completely engaged in Alpha Male behavior with Sheridan's manager. He doesn't notice her leave. And he doesn't notice her crestfallen face as she does so. Damn him.  
  
Clark and Artie exchange glances. Artie clearly doesn't like Clark. Clark shifts under Artie's gaze. He tries not to give into his own rising hostility. He doesn't know the man, but... Suddenly, he thinks he may not like him very much.  
  
ARTIE  
Kent is it?  
  
CLARK  
(attempts to not give into reciprocal emotional response)  
Clark. Clark Kent.  
  
ARTIE  
Well, Kent, you should know something about Sheridan.  
  
CLARK  
(self-control, detachment waning)  
And what would that be?  
  
ARTIE  
She means everything to me. Don't get in the way of the professionals trying to be a hero. I got a small army of bodyguards looking out for her, and if I hear that something's landed where it shouldn't, I will personally hunt you down and –   
  
Saved by the diva's reentry.  
  
Sheridan recognizes the look.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Artie? You haven't misbehaved now, have you?  
  
ARTIE  
No, not at all. I just wanted to make sure Kent and I came to an understanding.  
Did we?  
  
CLARK  
(utter failure of attempt; through virtually clenched teeth)  
Couldn't be any clearer.  
  
SHERIDAN  
(mock shivers)  
Oooo. I think the testosterone level in the room just peaked.  
(takes Clark by the arm)  
Goodnight, Artie.  
  
INT. CLUB HALLWAY  
  
Clark and Sheridan negotiate the security gauntlet and head toward the exit.  
  
Just out of view, someone watches, unseen.  
  
EXT. METROPOPOLIS CLUB  
  
Sheridan walks but Clark stops short suddenly.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Wha—  
  
Clark says nothing, just moves, shifting himself to walk on Sheridan's left and place himself by the curb. Sheridan smiles a little and looks to Clark for an explanation.  
  
CLARK  
My mother. She taught me to always walk on the side closest to the curb.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Raised to be a gentleman.  
  
CLARK  
Yeah. I guess.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Did she tell you why?  
  
CLARK  
(jokes)  
I should be a gentleman?  
(only half joking)  
So if a car jumps the curb, I get hit and not whoever I'm with...  
  
SHERIDAN  
A very modern answer for someone so steeped in the notion of chivalry.  
(Clark's look: me?)  
Uh, yeah... History major here... Think horse and carriage. Cobble stones and mud.  
  
CLARK  
And other somewhat less pleasant –   
  
SHERIDAN  
- more..._ aromatic_...things  
  
Although, I suspect, being hit by a car would not be pleasant either.  
  
Sheridan and Clark walk past a trio of STREET DUDES.  
  
STREET DUDE #1  
Hi, Beautiful.  
  
SHERIDAN  
(whispers to Clark)  
Is he speaking to me or you?  
  
Clark suppresses a smile. Sheridan does not. She flashes a Scarlet O'Hara coy-dainty grin.  
  
STREET DUDE #1 (O.C.)  
See that?   
(voice fading as Clark and Sheridan continue down the street)  
**Beautiful**...  
  
Clark smiles a little, shakes his head.  
  
SHERIDAN  
What? I'm supposed to launch into a feminist diatribe  
(Clark's amused look: Chloe would)  
every time someone says something to me? I don't get to do this that often. Be out... Walking... He didn't even recognize me...  
  
Look, it's easier all around if I smile and nod and keep steppin'. He feels good, and I don't get called..._ things_...   
  
Don't look so surprised. Because of who I am, but more often because of what I look like.  
  
Clark and Sheridan turn the corner. The street's deserted. And unnaturally quiet. Eerily so.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Clark, where're you from? Originally?  
  
So begins Clark's mind, turning over the available information wanting to answer but unable to, unsure as he is and knowing the response could make him the immediate subject of multiple - and possibly simultaneous - experiments.  
  
SHERIDAN  
You're not from Metropolis.  
  
CLARK  
No?  
  
SHERIDAN  
You don't have that cynical, been there, done that wrote the book, sold the screen rights sort of vibe about you. Wait…  
(stops)  
Let me guess.  
  
Sheridan gives Clark a major once-over. Actually, it's like a once-over **cubed**.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Farm boy…  
(takes his hand in hers)  
Although your hands are remarkably smooth for farm work.  
  
CLARK  
Gloves. I wear gloves. And use…lotion. A lot.  
  
SHERIDAN  
(stifles giggle)  
A lot of lotion.   
(beat; guesses)  
You're not from... _Smallville_, are you?  
  
Clark provides a slow-to-show smile of agreement.  
  
CLARK  
You found me out.  
  
SHERIDAN  
The "Creamed Corn Capital" of Kansas?  
  
CLARK  
(uneasy)  
It used to be.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Right. I forgot about the huge cosmic downpour. Were you around for that?  
  
Clark's mercifully distracted by a man following them. Sheridan follows his gaze.  
  
SHERIDAN  
You are some guard dog.   
(Clark returns his attention to Sheridan)  
He's one of my bodyguards. Making sure I get home in one piece.   
  
CLARK  
How much further?  
  
SHERIDAN  
My place? It's just around the corner.  
  
Clark turns. The bodyguard's nowhere to be found.   
  
Suddenly, a car veers into frame, screaming down the street, swerving erratically. Clark has a very bad feeling about the transmuted circumstances.  
  
The car heads undeniably in the duo's direction.  
  
Clark hustles Sheridan into an alley –  
  
EXT. METROPOLIS ALLEY  
  
- which, considering it's a dead end, clearly wasn't the brightest move.  
  
Clark blinks, owning his lack of forethought with a kicked puppy look.  
  
Clark's fear pans out as the car appears at the alley's mouth. The windows are tinted, but Clark has just enough time to make makes out a figure wearing a ski mask through the darkness before -  
  
- the engine revs  
  
- and the car comes gunning towards them.  
  
Clark looks up quickly. The fire escape ladder's reachable – if he gives Sheridan a little help.  
  
Hurriedly, Clark takes her by the waist and boost-tosses her up. Sheridan grabs onto the ladder, climbing as the car speeds toward Clark.   
  
There's no room for Clark to maneuver. And he's out of time.  
  
Clark drops to the ground, allowing the car to pass over him, lifting the vehicle to assist its clearance. Immediately after the rear bumper passes over him, he stands and leaps, easily grasping the fire escape and climbing in a single fluid motion.  
  
Without delay, the driver throws the car into reverse.  
  
Sheridan looks down, sees Clark climbing below her.   
  
Below the duo, the car comes to a screeching halt.  
  
The driver exits the vehicle and hastily pursues them.   
  
EXT. ROOF  
  
Sheridan stands anxiously on the rooftop and Clark appears. He extends his hand.   
  
The two run, Sheridan trailing Clark, to the other side of the roof.  
  
No fire escape. Just a bit of a drop. And a neighboring building that seems impossibly far away.  
  
Sheridan pulls back, terrified of the distance from there to the pavement. Clark picks up on her fear, speaks gently.  
  
CLARK  
Do you trust me?  
  
SHERIDAN  
As much as a gal can trust somebody she just met. Ok, maybe a little more tha – is there a point to this line of questioning? Because I suspect we don't have a lot of time...  
  
CLARK  
Close your eyes.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Clark I –   
  
CLARK  
(firm but gentle)  
Trust me.  
  
Somebody, bottle that Farm Boy charm. Or the alien pheromone... Sheridan does as Clark asks.   
  
Clark scoops her up and –  
  
- tosses her in an arc toward the other building.  
  
Clark sees a hand on the top of the fire escape, thinks to go after the attacker, then remembers...  
  
CLARK  
(watches her arc slowly)  
Sheridan...  
  
Clark takes a few steps back, then, runs, launching himself into the air...  
  
For a moment, Clark seems to hang prone, arms outstretched, suspended in midair, before his body tilts and he lands on the edge of the building across the way.   
  
Clark wobbles, almost losing his balance, then regains it – just in time to catch Sheridan in his arms.  
  
He's a blur as Ski Mask appears at the edge of the first building. Clark makes sure he and Sheridan are out of view.  
  
SHERIDAN  
(eyes still closed)  
Clark?  
  
CLARK  
Um?  
  
SHERIDAN  
That felt... **weird**.  
  
Clark suppresses a chuckle.  
  
CLARK  
Oh? Weird how?  
  
SHERIDAN  
Roller coaster weird.  
(eyes still closed)  
What now?  
  
CLARK  
Just hold on.  
  
Sheridan wraps her arms around Clark's neck. For a minute, it looks like she might be holding on tightly enough to strangle him.  
  
Her eyes still closed, she doesn't see Clark twist the doorknob and force the door open.  
  
INT. ROOF ACCESS STAIRWELL  
  
Clark lowers Sheridan to the floor.  
  
CLARK  
It's ok. You can open your eyes now.  
  
SHERIDAN  
(eyes remain shut)  
Are you sure?  
  
CLARK  
I'm sure.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Is he gone?  
  
Clark opens the door and scans the area. So it would seem.  
  
CLARK  
Looks like it.  
  
Sheridan opens her eyes and instantly collapses into the nearest wall.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Diva needs a minute.  
(beat)  
Are you absolutely certain he's audi.  
  
CLARK  
I could go and –   
  
SHERIDAN  
- Oh **hell** no...  
  
Clark's eyes go wide.  
  
SHERIDAN  
What? Don't they use words like "hell" and "damn" in Smallville?  
  
CLARK  
I guess.  
  
SHERIDAN  
But you don't.  
  
CLARK  
Nope.  
  
Sheridan searches his eyes. Damn, nothing but sincerity. Sheridan shakes her head.  
  
SHERIDAN  
I've seen stranger things – but not much.  
This in the age of Eminem... Any more like you back home?  
  
Clark shakes his head slowly to indicate "no." Sheridan starts down the steps.  
  
SHERIDAN  
We're not staying here all night, are we?  
  
CLARK  
No, but –  
  
SHERIDAN  
You said he's gone. I say we move this party elsewhere.  
  
CLARK  
Lead the way.  
  
SHERIDAN  
So obedient. I like that in a man.  
  
EXT. BUILDING  
  
Sheridan whips out her cell phone, dials a number.  
  
SHERIDAN  
(covers mouthpiece; to Clark)  
Calling the limo.  
  
INT. LIMO  
  
The chauffeur, Bernie, answers the phone. A bodyguard sits on passenger side of the vehicle.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Bernie... Everything's ok? Good...  
  
Sheridan passes Clark the phone.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Talk to your friends. Bernie says everything's copasetic.  
  
CLARK  
Pete? How're -   
  
PETE  
- awesome, man! We got to watch them sweep the limo for bombs!!! Mirrors, flashlights, the whole nine!!!  
  
CLARK  
Uh, Pete, you find this... exciting because...  
  
PETE  
More stories for the date book! Gotta have things to talk about when you date, Clark. But you'd know that if you ever –   
  
Chloe snatches the phone from Pete.  
  
PETE  
Hey! Not done yet!  
  
CHLOE  
So are. Clark, are you all right? What's going on?  
  
CLARK  
I'm fine Chloe. We just... took a little detour.   
  
CHLOE  
(oh?)  
A detour?  
  
CLARK  
I just want to make sure Sheridan gets home safely.  
  
CHLOE  
Can't be mad at you for that.  
  
CLARK  
Sure you could. But it would be –  
  
CHLOE & CLARK  
- a waste of time.  
  
More unison. It's starting to get a little freaky. Nice, but freaky.  
  
CLARK  
(turns so Sheridan can't hear)  
Are we still on for tomorrow?  
  
CHLOE  
(holds back the excitement and tries to sound nonchalant)  
Tomorrow? Refresh my memory...  
  
CLARK  
Walk? Park?  
  
CHLOE  
(yay! he remembered!)  
Riiight. Of course. Unless something comes up.  
  
CLARK  
It won't.  
  
CHLOE  
Famous last words.  
  
CLARK  
Not last words. Not famous. Not infamous. Good night, Chloe.  
  
CHLOE  
'night Clark.  
  
PETE  
(yells)  
Night!!!  
  
EXT. INDUSTRIAL BUILDING  
  
Sheridan stops short, almost causing Clark to plow into her. He regards her quizzically.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Home. Sweet, sweet home.  
  
Ok, Clark decides, definitely unexpected. He hopes it doesn't sound that way when he says it.   
  
It does.  
  
CLARK  
You live here?  
  
SHERIDAN  
Uh, yeah.  
(punches alarm code; hydraulics whirr as the door opens)  
Considering I own the building, I'd say it makes some small amount of sense. At least for those moments I'm feeling "conventional."  
  
INT. INDUSTRIAL BUILDING  
  
Uh, what's "conventional" about –   
  
SHERIDAN  
(indicates)  
- A recording studio… Karaoke lounge… You wouldn't believe how my friends behave after a few...  
  
Sheridan hits a switch. The lights go down – and a spotlight comes up in the center of the lounge – and Clark.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Give us a song, would you?   
(before Clark can respond)  
Just had a thought… You're not into that crap alt rock? Hillbilly music I can handle… Another Pearl Jam clone… Not having it.  
  
Yes, I am full of opinions. And glad to be home.  
  
Sheridan extends her hand. Clark takes it. She leads him down the hall.  
  
INT. HALLWAY – INDUSTRIAL BLDG.   
  
Clark approaches the door. He scans it quickly – xray check. Clark relaxes visibly after determining nothing is amiss. Sheridan regards him. Clark's not sure how to interpret the look, but a tiny smile curling up the edges of a woman's lips is a good thing, right?   
  
Sheridan hands Clark the key. He opens the door.  
  
INT. SHERIDAN'S LIVING ROOM  
  
Sheridan enters as Clark well, **freezes** in the doorway though not for fear of the decor. The living room is actually a pleasant surprise. Not overdone, but spacious, comfy, warm, inviting.  
  
Hoo boy.  
  
SHERIDAN  
It's ok. Really. Unless... You're not something freaky like a vampire – are you? Because I'm about to invite you in.  
(takes him by hand)  
**Come in**.  
  
Sheridan immediately kicks off her shoes. Now, she looks even more "girl like" than the wardrobe change previously suggested.  
  
SHERIDAN  
(padding off to the kitchen)  
Would you like some tea?  
  
Clark finds himself studying the interior. He determines it's the kind of place Chloe would have – if she had any nesting instincts. And an extra million or two.  
  
CLARK  
Sure.  
  
SHERIDAN  
(from kitchen)  
Is herbal okay?  
  
Clark picks up a scrapbook from the coffee table. He turns the pages gingerly, frankly shocked (albeit curious) by the book's contents...  
  
CLARK  
Sure.  
  
...page after page of **hate letters**. Some in crayon, some time painstakingly produced with glued on newspaper letters, some very elegantly crafted, but mostly lewd, crude and rude.  
  
Sheridan emerges, holding a hot water kettle.   
  
SHERIDAN  
(explaining)  
Best of...  
  
SHERIDAN  
Mostly those a bit touched in the head... I knew I'd arrived when the first one came...  
(turns page, indicates)  
Here. I used to keep them all... Now, I only keep my favorites.  
  
You must find me... **odd**.  
  
CLARK  
No, no not really. I remember a near dance of joy not too long ago from a...  
(what are we?)  
_friend_... The day she got started getting hate mail. She'd done a story and... She said it meant she was hitting a nerve.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Anyone I know?  
  
CLARK  
Chloe.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Um.  
  
Sheridan heads back into the kitchen.  
  
INT. SHERIDAN'S KITCHEN  
  
Sheridan fills the kettle with water. Clark appears in the doorway. He watches Sheridan keenly as she turns on the stove.   
  
CLARK'S POV  
  
as he listens to the electronic ignition engage, the HISS of gas as it's expelled, the WHOOSH as it ignites... Then something strange... A CRACK/SPLINTER SOUND that causes him to turns his x-ray vision in the direction of the stove.  
  
Clark sees a bomb. And the seconds are now counting down.  
  
CLARK  
(searches quickly for the appropriate thing to say)  
You've had a rough night... You should... relax. I can make the tea.  
  
Sheridan's lips move to form an unvocalized protest as Clark hustles her into the living room.  
  
INT. SHERIDAN'S LIVING ROOM  
  
Clark seats Sheridan on the couch. She rises as he starts back into the kitchen. Clark reseats her. She starts to get up a second time (what is she anyway, part Tigger?). This time, Clark plops her down on the couch. Stays her with a hand. He doesn't have a lot of time.  
  
Sheridan senses the urgency (if she doesn't understand it) and stays put. It's entirely possible he's just REALLY into making tea...  
  
INT. SHERIDAN'S KITCHEN   
  
SHERIDAN (O.S.)  
(Clark switches off the stove)  
Are you sure I can't help you?  
  
CLARK  
(too quickly)  
No!   
(winces; beat)  
I mean I'm sure. I'm fine.  
  
Vigilantly, Clark lifts the top of the stove, exposing the bomb to full view. He removes it slowly, his concern not for himself but for the woman in the other room.   
  
CLARK  
(quietly)  
Everything's fine.  
  
EXT. FIRE ESCAPE  
  
Clark climbs through the window. Tosses the bomb up, up – and way away.  
  
EXT. NIGHT SKY  
  
Stars – and the bomb - as it explodes.  
  
INT. SHERIDAN'S KITCHEN  
  
Sheridan runs into frame in time to see –   
  
- Clark removing the kettle from the stove.  
  
SHERIDAN  
What was that?  
  
CLARK  
I think a car backfired.  
  
SHERIDAN  
I didn't hear it whistle.  
  
CLARK  
The car?  
  
SHERIDAN  
The kettle. Did the water boil?  
  
CLARK  
Can't have tea unless the water's hot.  
  
Sheridan watches him, unconvinced he's telling the truth.  
  
SHERIDAN  
(indicating)  
Tea's over there.  
  
Clark looks amazingly comfortable. Too comfortable. Sheridan furtively touches the kettle. And snatches her hand back. Ok, the kettle's hot, but he's not being honest about something.  
  
SHERIDAN  
(Clark hands her a cup; beat)  
You should call your parents. You are nowhere near twenty-one.  
  
INT. SHERIDAN'S LIVING ROOM – SHORT TIME LATER  
  
Off camera, we hear the sound of water running.  
  
Clark stands, eyes fixed skeptically on the phone. Skepticism yields unwillingly to resignation. There's a beat a before he picks up the receiver.  
  
INTERCUT AS NECESSARY (Clark and Martha/Jonathan sharing the phone)  
  
MARTHA  
Clark?  
  
JONATHAN  
Clark, where is she now?  
  
CLARK  
(maybe I can fake them out)  
She...?  
  
MARTHA  
Sheridan.  
  
CLARK  
(Houston, we have a problem; beat; speaks softly into the phone)  
Taking a shower.  
  
JONATHAN  
Son, Chloe told us about how you all decided at the last minute to go to Metropolis...  
(Clark's look: Nice work, Chloe!!!)  
...and just happened to go to a club where Sheridan was performing.  
  
CLARK  
(go Chloe, go Chloe, go, go, go Chloe – wait a minute...)  
You... You know Sheridan?  
  
JONATHAN  
We live on a farm Clark, not the North Pole.  
  
MARTHA  
Of course we know who she is sweetie.  
  
JONATHAN  
Has anything happened since the shooting?  
  
CLARK  
(ok, Chloe, I'm taking back every good thing I just thought)  
Um... something small. It's not even worth mentioning.  
  
MARTHA  
What, Clark?  
  
CLARK  
(reluctantly)  
A bomb.  
  
MARTHA  
A bomb?  
  
JONATHAN  
Son?   
(rhetorically)  
You are coming home?  
  
The shower water ceases.  
  
CLARK  
(checks in the direction of the bathroom; speaks more quietly)  
Yes. Sheridan insists on driving me back to the truck.  
  
JONATHAN  
You be careful.   
  
CLARK  
Always.  
  
MARTHA  
We love you.  
  
CLARK  
I know. But it's still good to hear. Love you too.  
  
Clark replaces the receiver, a "glad that's over" look claiming his features.  
  
Sheridan enters the living room, clad in a towel.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Did you call your parents.  
  
CLARK  
Yes, yes I did.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Good.  
(beat)  
How'd you like the tea?  
  
CLARK  
Tea was good. Jasmine?  
  
SHERIDAN  
(nods)  
Um. I'm going to go and get dressed.  
(exits; reenters)  
How long have you and Chloe known each other?  
  
CLARK  
About two years.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Oh. That's not very long. I would've guessed longer.  
  
CLARK  
Longer? Why?  
  
SHERIDAN  
No reason.  
  
I'm gonna...  
  
Sheridan motions and walks, disappearing from view as Clark contemplates the exchange.  
  
INT. INDUSTRIAL BLDG. - PARKING GARAGE  
  
SHERIDAN  
(notes Clark's surprised expression)  
What were you expecting?  
  
CLARK  
Something a little more... Or less...  
  
SHERIDAN  
I like it. It likes me.  
  
Sheridan climbs into the driver's side of an SUV. Clark follows on the passenger side.   
  
The SUV pulls out of the garage, heads into –   
  
EXT. METROPOLIS STREET  
  
SHERIDAN  
It actually suits me, you know. Considering that Artie thinks I drive like a maniac... Crush space is good.  
  
CLARK  
(notes Sheridan's multiple California stops)  
Some maniacs obey traffic laws.  
  
SHERIDAN  
I suppose –  
  
Sheridan taps the brake. Nothing. She smiles reassuringly at Clark as she tries the parking brake. Nothing. The speedometer starts to climb – in spite of Sheridan's foot being nowhere near the accelerator. Sheridan takes the corner at an unreasonable velocity.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Not me.  
  
CLARK  
(quick scan of engine/brake line; accelerator's been rewired, brake line's been cut)  
No. Definitely not you.  
  
Clark unfastens Sheridan's seatbelt.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Clark, what're you doing?  
  
Clark motions to Sheridan to slide over. The speedometer jumps. Sheridan works to keep the vehicle on the road.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Very funny, Clark.  
  
CLARK  
(grabs for steering wheel)  
I'll steady the car – but we need to –   
  
SHERIDAN  
I don't know about you,   
(car pitches as Sheridan's forced to take another corner at what could only be Indy 500 speed to avoid a red light and oncoming traffic)  
but I'm not exactly indestructible.   
  
Face – pavement: not an option.  
  
CLARK  
SUV – wall: real possibility.  
  
The speedometer jumps again. Clark's look: **Trust me**.   
  
A beat before Sheridan lets go of the wheel and scoots over to Clark's side of the vehicle.   
  
INT./EXT. SHERIDAN'S SUV  
  
Clark opens the passenger door as Sheridan climbs onto his lap –  
  
EXT. SHERIDAN'S SUV  
  
- two spill from the SUV, Clark's body shielding the singer as the vehicle crashes into the side of a building and explodes.  
  
Out of harm's way, Sheridan and Clark regard the fireball.  
  
CLARK  
I may be overreacting, but I'm beginning to sense a pattern here.  
  
Off their looks.


	2. DANSE PART TWO

INT. LUTHOR SUITE – HOTEL  
  
Sheridan pours scotch into a glass. She tosses it back.  
  
LEX  
(to Clark)  
You should go home.   
(reassuring)  
I've got it covered.  
  
CLARK  
(eyes Lex; then emphathetically)  
Sheridan, are you okay?  
  
SHERIDAN  
(beat)  
Yes, Clark. Go home. Your parents were expecting you a while ago. I'm sure they're worried.  
  
LEX  
Not that they should be.  
(to Clark)  
You have a remarkable track record, Clark. Avoidance of all things deadly. I'm beginning to think you're charmed – or just unbelievably special.  
(Clark starts to head out)  
Don't worry about the suite. No one can trace Sheridan to me. She'll be safe.   
  
SHERIDAN  
Clark, thank you. I've got a big day tomorrow. A meeting with the head of the record label – that I may actually make because of you.   
  
I'm fine. Focus is everything.  
  
LEX  
You heard the woman Clark.  
  
Clark leaves reluctantly. Lex casts a glance back towards Sheridan who regards him emotionlessly. She hates the aroma of "old money privilege" in the evening.  
  
LEX  
You could say "thank you."  
  
SHERIDAN  
I thought I did.  
  
With that, Sheridan's gone. Lex considers. Feisty with a body that won't quit. All in all, not a bad reason to get pulled out of bed in the middle of the night.  
  
EXT. METROPOLIS PARK – DAY  
  
Chloe, dressed in Sullivan-on-a-(gulp!)-date autumn chic, stands alone, watching people as they walk by. People? Chloe makes a mental note. Every "person" seems to be part of a "couple."  
  
CHLOE  
Noah's ark 2002...  
  
Chloe sighs. No sign of Clark. She checks the immediate area. Yep –  
  
CHLOE  
- big rock, right place. No Clark.  
  
Why am I not surprised?  
  
Chloe does a visual sweep. Still no Clark. Chloe notes not only are the people coupled up, so are the pets. And the babies.  
  
CHLOE  
(gah!)  
Not the babies... Perception glitch... So not right.  
(softly)  
Clark, where are you?  
  
CLARK (O.S.)  
I'm right here, Chloe.  
  
Chloe spins. Clark's standing directly behind her.   
  
CHLOE  
(startled)  
Clark!   
(beat)  
How'd you –   
  
CLARK  
- Stealth mode.  
  
CHLOE  
Very. Stealthy.  
  
CLARK  
Thank you.  
  
Clark looks suitably edible in a pair of black khakis, blue shirt and Chloe's favorite dress casual black jacket. Edible – and content to invade her personal space – majorly. We see it in Chloe's face: god, he is gor-jus.  
  
CHLOE  
Uh, how long - ?  
  
CLARK  
- I just got here. I'm a little late. I apologize.  
  
CHLOE  
You know, you could give a gal a call if you're going to be late.  
  
CLARK  
I could... But...  
(leans in to whisper)  
I wasn't really late.  
  
Chloe draws back slightly. She regards Clark incredulously.  
  
CHLOE  
You weren't late, but you weren't here... So... Where were you?  
  
CLARK  
Watching you.  
  
CHLOE  
(didn't expect that)  
Watching me? Stalker much?  
  
CLARK  
I'm trying to cut down.  
  
Clark takes Chloe's hand in his and leads her down the path. Chloe works very hard to not go all melted butter.  
  
CLARK  
How'd that "thing" go at The Planet?  
  
CHLOE  
"Thing" went well. It's more about putting a face with the name you know. Not that they don't know. Me. Speaking of knowing...  
  
CLARK  
Don't worry. I wasn't going to ask again about the "thing." We all have secrets. Granted, some are better than others...  
  
Chloe stops and turns.  
  
CHLOE  
Clark, we've known each other for what – a little over two years?  
  
CLARK  
Give or take. A day or a couple of weeks or –  
  
CHLOE  
(swats Clark good naturedly)  
- I'm serious. If we're going to do this…  
  
CLARK  
I thought we were. "Doing this."  
  
Chloe walks away from Clark, thinking out loud.  
  
CHLOE  
Not finished here.  
  
CLARK  
My bad.  
  
CHLOE  
If we're gonna… Then there're things we ought to know.  
  
CLARK  
I thought we knew things.  
  
CHLOE  
Collectively, we know a lot of things. I'm not talking about the Chicago fire of 1871 here –  
  
CLARK  
Then I won't mention Mrs. O'Leary's cow.  
  
CHLOE  
For example, what's my favorite movie?  
  
CLARK  
C'mon, Chloe... Pop quiz? And one that's -   
  
CHLOE  
- You don't know, do you?  
  
CLARK  
As many movies as you, Pete and I've seen together?   
  
Clark considers – and tries to play off the fact that nope, he hasn't a clue.  
  
CHLOE  
That's what I figured.  
  
CLARK  
So, uh... This information... Is it available to be shared?  
  
CHLOE  
Maybe. But if you ask, know I get to ask a question too.  
  
CLARK  
Quid pro quo.  
  
CHLOE  
Sort of. You didn't exactly get to pick your question.  
  
CLARK  
You're good.  
  
CHLOE  
Practicing non-ambush techniques.  
  
CLARK  
Well, you never know.  
  
CHLOE  
Pays to be prepared.  
  
CLARK  
You gonna tell me?  
  
CHLOE  
You gonna ask?  
  
CLARK  
Chloe?  
  
CHLOE  
Yes, Clark?  
  
CLARK  
What's your favorite movie?  
  
Decisions, decisions... Does she go for the "intellectual" answer (Francois Truffant, Oscar Micheaux, Wem Wenders, maybe something like "Babette's Feast"), the "hip" response ("Moulin Rouge," Ewan McGregor, _mrrrooowwww_) – or the truth?  
  
Chloe opts for the truth.  
  
CHLOE  
Starman.  
  
Clark's curiosity is piqued.  
  
CHLOE  
(beat)  
On the surface, it may seem like an odd choice... Especially when you consider the same director made "Halloween" and "The Thing"...  
  
Lame?  
  
CLARK  
Did I utter a word?  
  
CHLOE  
No.  
  
CLARK  
Did I say: "Chloe, how lame?"  
  
CHLOE  
No. But you thought it.  
  
CLARK  
No, no I didn't.  
(amused)  
Why "Starman"?  
  
CHLOE  
Granted, it starts off a little freaky. Dead man clone... but... it's... _sweet_.  
  
CLARK  
All the more reason for you to run the other way. You're not –  
  
CHLOE  
Sweet? Hello, sap right here.   
(horrified)  
I can't believe I just told you... I was supposed to go to the grave -   
  
CLARK  
- I'm glad you did – and you didn't.  
  
Chloe's obviously relieved.  
  
CHLOE  
(girds self)  
My turn.  
  
CLARK  
Favorite movie?  
  
CHLOE  
Nope. I've got a better question.  
  
CLARK  
Ask away.  
  
CHLOE  
Are you...  
(grins)  
...** ticklish**?  
  
Clark mulls the query over.  
  
CHLOE  
It's not calculus, Clark.  
  
CLARK  
(finally)  
I don't know.  
  
CHLOE  
You don't… How could you not know if you're ticklish?  
  
CLARK  
I don't know.  
  
CHLOE  
No childhood tickle fests?  
  
CLARK  
Not that I can remember.  
  
CHLOE  
So, you have no idea what'll happen if I do this –   
  
Chloe pokes him in the abdomen. Clark flinches reflexively.  
  
CHLOE  
- or this…  
  
She pokes Clark on either side of his waist. Clark starts to smile. This's new, different, fun but…  
  
CLARK  
Chloe –   
  
CHLOE  
Or what about –  
  
Chloe launches into a two-hand tickle assault. Boy of steel? How about Boy of Pudding? Clark giggles, falling backward, grasping for Chloe.  
  
Clark hits the ground hard, still laughing as leaves fly high into the air and Chloe lands on top of him.  
  
CHLOE  
Clark?  
  
Tears in his eyes, Clark looks to Chloe. He has his arm wrapped around her. Chloe pushes herself up slightly.  
  
CHLOE  
Are you all right? Did you…hit your head?  
  
CLARK  
(gasping)  
I'm…fine…  
  
CHLOE  
It looked like you landed pretty hard. And you…keep…laughing…  
  
CLARK  
I'm fine. Really. But definitely…in the mood for…payback…  
  
Clark retaliates. Chloe giggles and dodges and responds in kind.  
  
As the leaves continue to be scattered, we imagine somewhere off camera, a groundskeeper is muttering curses.  
  
INT. CEO'S OFFICE – MAGNAMINOUS RECORDS – DAY  
  
Sheridan steps into the room and stops, adjusting her hair and outfit. This is doable. It's just a matter of focus. Commitment. Feminine wiles. She can get what she wants. And she will.  
  
Sheridan believes all these things to be true right up until the moment when the chair beyond her swivels, revealing Lex. We almost hear the unuttered expletive.  
  
LEX  
Hello, Sheridan.   
(why the look?; beat)  
Right... As of this morning, in a bid to... diversify my holdings... I bought out your contract. You're part of my newly acquired stable of talent.  
  
Welcome to the family.  
  
Lex smiles.  
  
INT. TORCH OFFICE  
  
Chloe, Clark and Pete pour through hard copies of Sheridan articles.  
  
CHLOE  
It might help if   
(Clark removes a leaf from Chloe's hair)  
we knew what we were looking for.  
  
Chloe grins. Clark grins. Pete looks at the two of them inquisitively.  
  
CLARK  
(back to business)  
I dunno. Anything that might help explain why somebody would want to kill Sheridan.  
  
PETE  
People like that get crazy death threats all the time.  
  
CHLOE  
"Threats," Pete. Not actual sending-you-to-the-great-beyond o'grams.  
  
CLARK  
There's gotta be something here…  
  
PETE  
(reads aloud)  
Business partner dies after a two-year battle with Hodgskins lymphoma.  
  
CLARK  
(continues reading)  
"He was my heart and will be missed dearly."  
  
The quote sets Clark's mind working. He considers.  
  
INT. LUTHOR SUITE  
  
Clark appears as Sheridan, packages dangling, tears out of the suite at New York speed, practically mowing him down.  
  
INT. HOTEL HALL  
  
Sheridan doesn't break her stride. She slam-hands the packages to Clark who follows in spite of his confusion.  
  
CLARK  
Sheridan?  
  
SHERIDAN  
Binge shopping.  
  
INT. CONCIERGE – HOTEL  
  
SHERIDAN  
(to Clark)  
One second.  
(to Concierge)  
Deliver to this address.  
(takes packages from Clark; piles them on desk)  
And charge it to "Lex Luthor."  
(strides out, Clark on her heels)  
That'll cost me.  
  
EXT. HOTEL  
  
Clark reaches out, stays Sheridan with his hand.  
  
CLARK  
Sheridan, you gotta understand something. I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about.  
  
Sheridan gives Clark her own version of x-ray vision.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Riiiight.  
  
Sheridan looks towards his hand. He removes it from her shoulder.  
  
SHERIDAN  
You knew absolutely nothing about your buddy's brand new record label.  
(steps into the street)  
That he was buying out   
(doesn't notice the huge truck careening towards her)  
my contract?  
  
Clark reacts. "Speeds" into the street gently nudging Sheridan out of harm's way. To all appearances, he just joined her. Did she even breathe/notice?  
  
Apparently not.  
  
SHERIDAN  
I may've been born at night, but it wasn't last night. Step away. You heard me, Farm Boy. One side. Either you move, or I move you.  
  
Clark stifles a laugh.  
  
SHERIDAN  
It's not funny, Clark.   
(beat)  
**You are in my way**.  
  
CLARK  
Sheridan, I didn't know anything.  
(look at me)  
Really. Lex is sort of a "go to" guy. Especially at certain times.  
  
Sheridan regards Clark. Clark feels as though she's seeing straight into his soul.  
  
CLARK  
That night…  
  
SHERIDAN  
(softens – vaguely)  
Was a certain time.  
  
CLARK  
Couldn't've said it better myself. So what's this about Lex, a record label, and you?  
  
SHERIDAN  
(paces, thinking out loud)  
What I need to do is go see my lawyer. Nothing personal you understand. Got nothing against your friend. It's just business. You develop relationships.  
  
CLARK  
With the people who sold your contract? And didn't tell you?  
  
Well, his logic's impeccable – if poorly timed.  
  
SHERIDAN  
I'll fill you in – but not here.  
  
INT. DIVE BAR  
  
It's still day, but you'd never know it. Must be where vampires congregate before sunset.  
  
SHERIDAN  
(to Bartender)  
Tequila. El Patron.  
  
BARTENDER  
Shot?  
  
SHERIDAN  
Funny man.  
  
Sheridan snatches up the bottle.  
  
INT. DIVE BAR – LATER  
  
The bottle's half empty. The jukebox clunk-whirrs into life, spitting music from past-their-prime speakers.   
  
Sheridan regards Clark.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Do you dance Farm Boy?  
  
CLARK  
Uh…yeah…  
(as Sheridan yanks him onto the "dance floor")  
A..little!  
  
INT. "DANCE FLOOR" - DIVE BAR  
  
Ok, so it's only a tiny corner of the bar with no tables.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Another "somebody leavin' somebody song"…   
  
CLARK  
It's depressing.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Depressing as hell, Farm Boy.  
  
O.C., a glass shatters. Clark reacts, body tensed, ready for -   
  
SHERIDAN  
(um, this wasn't what Clark was getting ready for)  
Don't worry. I got you.  
(pulls Clark closer)  
I got you…  
  
Sheridan pulls Clark even closer. She's not Chloe – but there's something downright nice about being held.  
  
Clark allows himself to dissolve into the moment.  
  
INT. OFFICE - LUTHOR MANSION  
  
Lex converses via the speakerphone.   
  
LEX  
I just want to be clear. All the songs that haven't been released – are releasable in the event of Sheridan's…"untimely demise".  
  
I understand the precedent's been established with artists like Tupac… I just want to know if something were to happen to Sheridan, that Magnanimous Records would not suffer. We have after all made a substantial investment, and good business dictates we recoup our investment –at a minimum.  
  
Good. So glad to hear that.  
  
Lex disconnects the call. Confirmation of business well conducted as usual.  
  
INT. DIVE BAR – STILL LATER  
  
The tequila bottle's empty. Sheridan doesn't seem drunk, but we know she didn't have any help emptying the El Patron.  
  
CLARK  
(beat; not to take advantage, but…)  
I saw something today. From an article about your business partner…  
  
Sheridan inhales deeply but says nothing.  
  
CLARK  
You called him your "heart."  
  
SHERIDAN  
(beat)  
And you're wondering why?  
  
CLARK  
Not so much wondering…as "curious"… Business isn't anything personal…  
  
SHERIDAN  
The World According to Sheridan.  
(beat)  
Emilio wasn't just my business partner… He was my…my husband.   
  
We never told anybody. We thought it would be better if…  
  
Have you ever done anything really stupid Clark? Something you thought was the right thing at the time, but it just sent everything spinning into unexpected directions?  
  
At least one instance pops immediately to mind. Clark pushes the thoughts of Phelan (the safe had seemed like the end, but it was only the beginning) aside.  
  
The veil of self-involvement lifts, and Sheridan's instantly horrified.  
  
SHERIDAN  
You've gotta go. You're not safe!  
  
Clark doesn't move.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Clark, I'm not kidding… You don't understand…  
  
Good god, why is he still sitting there? Not only that, but Clark leans in and waits patiently for Sheridan to continue.  
  
Sheridan swallows. Inhales, exhales. There's something about Clark that makes her feel (momentarily)..._ protected_ and causes her to open up.  
  
SHERIDAN  
When Emilio died, I wanted to die too. I went about making sure that happened...   
  
I didn't have the guts for suicide… So, I did what I do… I hired somebody.  
(do you get it now?)  
I put out a contract on myself.  
  
The revelation is not exactly what Clark had expected. He considers. Well, it certainly helps put things in proper context.   
  
CLARK  
(beat)  
You don't just look up a hired killer in the yellow pages.  
  
Sheridan regards Clark. Why isn't he out the door?   
  
SHERIDAN  
You are absolutely right. But doing what I do, you hear things – if you know how to listen, you meet people.  
  
I went to a bar sort of like this one.  
  
CLARK  
Nobody recognized you?  
  
SHERIDAN  
Nope. I have an "alter ego." There's "Sheridan" and… I pull him out when I want to go into the world unnoticed. It's actually kind of fun… Or was.  
  
There's no way anyone could've known it was me. I went in – and found somebody to do the job.   
  
I wouldn't know who or when or where – just that it was paid for – and then some.  
  
Thing is – it took so long for the wheels to get going, I think I changed my mind.   
  
CLARK  
Can't you call it off?  
  
SHERIDAN  
No. I don't remember where I wound up. Too many "recreational pharmaceuticals". Too much grief. I was crazy from grief. I didn't know. The only person I could've talked to about it was dead.  
  
Emilio would be so disappointed in me. I thought after the first few attempts failed, the hitter would give up.   
CLARK  
You had to find a killer who actually likes his job. And is dedicated.  
  
SHERIDAN  
You shouldn't be here. It's not over yet.  
  
CLARK  
What about the police?  
  
SHERIDAN  
These kinds of hitters don't need to worry about the police. For all I know, he could be a cop. That's the beauty of a place like Metropolis. One big corrupt unhappy family.  
  
CLARK  
Maybe I can help.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Have you not heard a single thing I've said? **Professional killer**.  
(rises)  
My business. My problem. I'll get it figured out. And if I live through it, I'm sure I can come up with a way to deal with Lex Luthor too.  
  
Sheridan exits as Clark considers. Surely, he can be of some assistance. The question is: how?  
  
INT. KITCHEN – KENT FARM – DAY  
  
Chloe works some make-up magic on Clark though we can't see what she's doing (his back is toward us).  
  
CHLOE  
(quietly)  
I wanna come. With you. To Metropolis.  
  
CLARK  
(firm but gentle)  
No. I don't know what I'm walking into - and… I couldn't concentrate if you were there.  
  
CHLOE  
That's what I'd be there for –  
  
CLARK  
- distraction?  
  
CHLOE  
Concentration.  
  
CLARK  
I don't think it's –  
  
Pete enters. Chloe and Clark feign "business as usual." However, Pete's not that dumb (not that you need to be Einstein to do the math here).  
  
Pete watches his friends. Oh, no doubt, no doubt at all: something's changed between them.  
  
PETE  
Ok, who first?   
(beat)  
Something happened in the park, didn't it?  
  
CHLOE  
What makes you say that?  
  
PETE  
Best friend's intuition. That – and the goofy grins you two keep getting around each other.  
  
CLARK  
I –   
  
CHLOE  
(to Clark)  
Sit still.   
  
Jonathan and Martha enter. They watch Chloe, then exchange a "that's impressive work" glance with each other as Chloe makes an effort to not grin. Or, at the very least, not grin goofily.  
  
CHLOE  
(very serious)  
Let's see if the semester of theatre arts pays off.  
  
JONATHAN  
(genuinely admiring Chloe's handiwork)  
What's this about again?  
  
Chloe's about to offer up a bald-faced lie. Clark interjects.  
  
CLARK  
I promised a friend I'd do some research for her.  
  
MARTHA  
And the "disguise" is for…  
  
CLARK  
So I'm not recognized.  
  
Very shrewd on Clark's part. Are his parents going to argue this?  
  
Hardly.  
  
JONATHAN  
If you feel like you need a disguise.  
  
PETE  
Oh, he does. He definitely does.  
  
MARTHA  
(not buying the entire story, but plays along)  
Then, Chloe, let's hope you have a little Rick Baker in you.  
  
Pete's look: who?  
  
CHLOE  
Thank you, Mrs. Kent.  
(to Pete)  
He's an Oscar winning makeup artist.  
(to Clark)  
**Sit still**.  
  
PETE  
(flinches on Clark's behalf)  
That's gotta hurt.  
  
CHLOE  
I barely touched him.  
  
INT. KITCHEN – KENT FARM - LATER  
  
Pete and Chloe sit at the table. Chloe yells upstairs.  
  
CHLOE  
We're still waiting.  
  
PETE  
Yeah, Clark, c'mon, let's see.  
  
We hear the pitter-pat of not-so-small feet first down the stairs then down the hall.   
  
Clark steps into frame. We don't see him but watch Chloe and Pete's reaction – they're amused and awed by their handiwork.  
  
PETE  
Not bad. Nice wardrobe selection if I do say so myself.  
  
More like holy...! Goatee, slightly thicker eyebrows, tossled longish, swirly curls of hair. Stylish glasses. Elegant shirt and slacks... In a word - niiiiiiiiice.  
  
CHLOE  
Speak.  
  
PETE  
What is he? Lassie?  
  
CLARK  
Hello...  
  
Gaaaak – what was that?  
  
Jonathan and Martha pass through the kitchen, exchanging bemused glances.  
  
CHLOE  
You might want to bass it up there, Bart Simpson.  
  
CLARK  
(lower)  
Hello?  
(not good enough; lower)  
Hello…  
  
Better.  
  
PETE  
And if you're going to be dressed like that, you have to wear the outfit, you can't let it wear you. Walk.  
  
CHLOE  
No.   
(demonstrates)  
You need to expand your presence. It's not about the reality – it's about the expectation. You expect something. You walk like you expect something.  
  
PETE  
(watches; a suggestion)  
Walk like the world owes you.   
(nods approvingly)  
Much better. This may just work.  
  
CHLOE  
(hands Clark a fake ID)  
This should get you into the bars.  
(Clark's look: how?)  
How do you think?  
  
CLARK  
A little creative computing?  
  
CHLOE  
A little? Try "a whole lot." It's easy to make a funky ID. The goal here was to make a real one. Or as real as you can get without it actually being real.  
  
PETE  
The only thing between you and pulling this off is whether not people believe you. You can't flinch. And don't use the ambush technique of our Gal Friday here. More flies with honey…  
  
It's a lot to absorb, but he is Clark Kent.  
  
CHLOE  
Good luck.  
  
Chloe wads singles in Clark's hand.  
  
CHLOE  
City man does not live on charm alone.  
  
EXT. METROPOLIS STREET - NIGHT  
  
Think "Alphabet City" pre-Guliani. If Clark's museum outing provided an introduction to the "Big City," this undercover excursion reveals its underbelly. Every sound imaginable assails. Car alarm. Stray cat, glass shattering (car theft in progress), domestic disturbance…   
  
It's as though the world's volume's been cranked up to "high". Users/abusers populate the streets as do blue collar types and the occasional Yuppie slummer.  
  
Clark doesn't seem that out of place, but it's clear this isn't somewhere he's likely to linger. He tries to take it in without being overt.   
  
Clark selects a bar. It's as good a place as any to start.  
  
INT. BAR #1  
  
Clark grabs a table. Waitress comes by. He places an order. Shot of tequila in honor of Sheridan. He tosses the tequila aside too fast to be noticed, lowering his hand, providing the appearance of drinking it.   
  
Clark orders a second drink.  
  
Clark waits a few moments, unconvinced he's hit paydirt. He tosses a few bills onto the table, leaving a generous tip to the delight of the Waitress.  
  
INT. BAR #2  
  
Same scenario. More nothing.  
  
INT. BAR #3  
  
Maybe the third time's the charm. Clark's about to leave when he's approached by man. The STRANGER isn't someone who stands out in any way. Heavy on the dark Banana Republic wardrobe, this man's more likely to blend – and/or be missed entirely.   
  
The Stranger gnaws on the end of a clove cigarette.   
  
STRANGER  
(re: chair)  
Mind?  
  
Clark gestures an ok. The Stranger joins him, ordering.  
  
STRANGER  
Scotch. Neat.  
(turns attention to Clark)  
You look like a man in need of some guidance.  
  
CLARK  
(beat)  
You look like a man who's in a position to give some.  
  
STRANGER  
Some would say. In what direction?  
  
CLARK  
Um. Removal.  
  
STRANGER  
Permanent?  
  
Clark nods slightly. The game's on. There's excitement, but a lingering strangeness.  
  
STRANGER  
Gotta be on the same page. To be clear. Removal. Multi-digit endeavor.  
  
CLARK  
How multi?  
  
STRANGER  
Try six.  
(Clark fights the flinch)  
Got good people. Pay 'em accordingly. Who?  
  
CLARK  
Does it matter?  
  
STRANGER  
Nah, not really. Some are easier than others. More access, more opportunity. Lower risk. Joe Schmo. One rate.  
Celebs, different pricing structure –   
(Clark's look: how much?)  
Seven.  
  
Clark's working very hard now to make sure he doesn't give himself away. The effort is monumental. The Stranger checking out a busty patron and misses the slip as his Clark's go wide.  
  
STRANGER  
What's your time frame?  
  
CLARK  
A.S.A.P.  
  
STRANGER  
(takes a long drag off the cigarette)  
Can't be too soon. Best I know is working on a similar circumstance,  
(looks away)  
but he should be available –   
(looks back; Clark's gone)  
- in a day or so…  
  
STRANGER  
Definitely not a cop.  
(sips drink)  
Cop'd never move that fast.  
  
The Stranger orders another beverage, continues perusing the landscape for other potential clients.  
  
EXT. INDUSTRIAL BLDG.  
  
Artie punches the alarm code. The large door whirrs up. He steps into –  
  
INT. INDUSTRIAL BLDG.  
  
- and is followed inside without his knowledge as the door whirrs shut with casket finality.  
  
Artie heads toward Sheridan's living space. In the minimal light, we make out a figure expertly undoing the code box. The figure remains in shadow, unnoticed as he attaches wires, clips and an external LCD box with streaming digits that eventually reveal the alarm code.   
  
INT. HALL – INDUSTRIAL BLDG.  
  
Artie rings the bell repeatedly. A beat. He pounds on the door.  
  
ARTIE  
Sheridan! I know you're in there!  
  
SHERIDAN (O.C.)  
(through door)  
Go away, Artie!  
  
ARTIE  
Sheridan, Jesus… Open the door… Talk to me.  
(silence; exasperated)  
You fired all your bodyguards –  
  
SHERIDAN (O.C.)  
- I upgraded the security system!  
  
ARTIE  
I know you're upset about the Luthor deal, but Sheridan, this is not the time to be suicidal.  
  
SHERIDAN (O.C.)  
You worry too much...  
  
INT. SHERIDAN'S LIVING ROOM  
  
No, the time to be suicidal was when Emilio died.   
  
SHERIDAN  
But you know that. I grew up on the South Side of Chicago... I know a thing or two...  
(loads clip into Beretta; racks gun; voice trails off)  
...about a thing or two...  
(beat; shouts)  
I'm only going to say this once more Artie, and I want you to listen very closely because I know how much I hate having to repeat myself.  
  
INT. HALL – INDUSTRIAL BLDG.  
  
SHERIDAN (O.C.)  
GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE! You mean well…  
  
INT. SHERIDAN'S LIVNG ROOM  
  
SHERIDAN  
You don't know.  
(softly)  
You just…don't know.  
  
INT. HALL – INDUSTRIAL BLDG.   
  
Artie contemplates Plan B as the lights go off completely.   
  
Darkness.  
  
INT. SHERIDAN'S LIVING ROOM  
  
Emergency lights illuminate minor pockets. Security shutters activated by the apparent incursion lower. Or were they activated purposefully?  
  
INT. HALL – INDUSTRIAL BLDG.  
  
The Figure appears. We see the gun barrel first, then the silencer as it overwhelms the frame. We see the muzzle flash.   
  
Artie drops.  
  
INT. SHERIDAN'S LIVING ROOM  
  
Sheridan reacts to the THUD in the hall. She disengages the Beretta's safety.  
  
Sheridan opens the door, gun leveled.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Artie?  
  
Sheridan's instantly slammed back into the loft by a brutal blow to the face. She's still gripping the handle of the gun tightly when she lands hard on the floor.  
  
Sheridan struggles up, scanning the area, pointing the gun in various directions as she hears movement around the loft.  
  
The security shutters settle, sealing Sheridan in the living space. Unless she can get to the door...  
  
Sheridan's backhanded. The force propels her over the sofa.   
  
Sheridan's gun skids across the room.  
  
A flashlight splits the darkness. Under the lens of the intense – and blinding - light rests the barrel of the gun.   
  
Sheridan rises, squinting into the light. Hearing a gun cocked, she dives as bullets lodge in the sofa.  
  
Shielded by a large chair, Sheridan waits, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She bides her time, then crawls toward the kitchen.  
  
She hears nothing.  
  
Sheridan stands warily, examining the windows – no options there. She decides to make her way cautiously toward the door.  
  
Without warning, the flashlight splits the darkness again, stopping Sheridan cold like a deer in the headlights.   
  
The silencer fills the frame.  
  
EXT. FIRE ESCAPE  
  
Clark arrives on the landing adjacent Sheridan's kitchen. His x-ray vision affords more than a view of skeletons – he's sees everything that's happening inside clearly and reacts, horrified.  
  
CLARK'S POV – SLOW MOTION – X-RAY VIEW THROUGH BRICK  
  
He sees:  
  
- the muzzle of the gun spit fire   
  
- the shock of realization spinning through Sheridan's as she's hit twice in the chest.   
  
- the Figure as he exits  
  
- Sheridan collapsing back   
  
EXT. FIRE ESCAPE  
  
- just as Clark pokes a finger through the shutters, peeling back the metal enough to pitch himself through the industrial glass.   
  
INT. SHERIDAN'S LIVING ROOM  
  
Clark moves sufficiently fast to catch Sheridan as she seems to drift back, placing her gently on the ground.   
  
END CLARK POV  
  
Clark hesitates momentarily, regarding Sheridan. He allows grief to invade, then collects himself enough to head out after the Figure.  
  
EXT. INDUSTRIAL BUILDING   
  
The street's deserted. Clark spots a wire trashcan with a mask, sweatshirt and gun. Looking at the items, Clark suddenly finds himself drawn into what seems like a fantasy – a trip from actual to microscopic. He's able to see a DNA helix clearly enough to commit it to memory.  
  
Clark blinks, returning the scene before him to a normal view. He looks up and around, engaging his x-ray vision.  
  
Clark spies a man who could well be the Figure through the building, around the corner, climbing very nonchalantly into a car.   
  
Clark gets an idea. He grins mischievously.  
  
INT./EXT. CAR  
  
The engine starts, but after a quick scan to verify that the DNA is a match (it is), the engine dies inexplicably and the car suddenly tilts sideways...  
  
The Figure reacts, scrambling as the car winds up resting on the driver's side door. He climbs over the seat and pushes the passenger door open.  
  
Instantly, the Figure vanishes from view.  
  
EXT. POLICE STATION  
  
Officers entering the building for next tour of duty scatter as a wire trashcan is flung like a bowling ball into frame. The Figure, gun, miscellaneous tools all spill out – as well as a Daily Planet with the headline "Police Seek Suspect in Attempted Shooting."  
  
EXT. INDUSTRIAL BLDG.  
  
A repair crew works on the alarm system as Clark speeds by into –   
  
INT. HALL – INDUSTRIAL BLDG.  
  
- past another trio of alarm techs and through the open door to  
  
INT. SHERIDAN'S LIVING ROOM  
  
Sheridan is most assuredly **not** where he left her. Clark's face betrays an abundance of questions until…  
  
He hears voices – Artie's and Sheridan's – coming from the kitchen.  
  
Sheridan enters the living room, gun raised.  
  
SHERIDAN  
(regards him, then lowers the gun, engages the safety)  
Clark?  
  
CLARK  
I thought... I saw... Weren't you –  
  
SHERIDAN  
The rumors regarding my demise have been greatly exaggerated.  
(scrutinizes Clark's face)  
Halloween?  
  
The remark reminds Clark of Chloe's additions. Sheridan can see it in his eyes: how –   
  
SHERIDAN  
- come?  
  
Sheridan opens her shirt, revealing a Kevlar vest.  
  
SHERIDAN  
You take precautions when you're not trying to die.  
  
Artie enters.   
  
ARTIE  
(shirt open, vest exposed)  
I don't know how you talked me into it, but damn, Sheridan, I'm glad you did. But you may still want to –  
  
CLARK  
I don't think you'll have to worry about that…problem…anymore, Sheridan.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Oh?  
  
CLARK  
I saw the cops…had a suspect…  
  
SHERIDAN  
Really?  
  
CLARK  
Uh, well, more like…_ heard_… Through… Chloe. She…knows things… People…  
  
SHERIDAN  
How can you be sure?  
  
CLARK  
Her sources…are  
(a whisper)  
very reliable.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Then, I have no choice but to believe you.  
(beat)  
Do your parents know where you are?  
  
Like a scolded puppy, Clark lowers his head.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Call them. Let 'em know. Assuming the phone still works.  
(shrugs)  
Killers. So predictable.  
  
Clark looks concerned, but not about his parents.  
  
SHERIDAN  
I'm fine. A little sore.   
(shifts)  
Ouch! Make that "massively in pain" – but there's still one leeetle end left to tie. Gentlemen  
(hands Clark phone)  
if you'll excuse me.  
  
**Phone home**.  
  
Sheridan exits.  
  
EXT. KENT PORCH  
  
Chloe steps onto the porch, carrying two mugs. She hands one to Clark. Chloe inhales the scent of cinnamon as she sits within cuddling distance of Clark. He smiles, wrapping his free arm around her as she leans into the embrace.  
  
CHLOE  
I love apple cider…  
  
Chloe blows on the cider to cool it. Clark's already drinking his.  
  
CHLOE  
Isn't that…hot?  
  
CLARK  
No, not really.  
  
CHLOE  
Sooooo? Don't make me tickle you.  
  
CLARK  
(pulls away)  
Ack! No tickling!  
(beat)  
It turns out it was one of her bodyguards.  
  
Chloe wraps Clark's arm back around her.  
  
CHLOE  
Don't tell me: a former cop of questionable character who quit the force before things came back to bite him, who opted for the more lucrative opportunities afforded by the "personal protection" industry who eventually graduated to the even more lucrative field of Hired Killer.  
  
CLARK  
Deductive reasoning?  
  
CHLOE  
Daily Planet Special Edition. The piece was a little vague on the particulars of the capture - which generally means "outside intervention."  
  
CLARK  
Government?  
  
CHLOE  
Not feeling very much like speculating at the moment.  
(adjusts self; beat)  
Ummmm, this's nice.  
  
CLARK  
Yes, yes it is.  
  
High above them, a full moon.   
  
Chloe and Clark sip the cider and continue delighting in each other's company.  
  
INT. LEX'S MANSION  
  
Sheridan strides past Enrique who lags behind, unable to keep pace.  
  
Lex glances Enrique's way. Lex's lips move not but his eyes plead "A little help...?"  
  
Lex recovers quickly, and Enrique takes his freshly diverted attention as a cue to exit. He does so posthaste.  
  
LEX  
I do keep business hours.  
  
SHERIDAN  
And?  
  
LEX  
As the owner of the record label that employs you, you may wish to conduct yourself a bit more... _professionally_.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Really? As the owner of the record label that claims ownership of my contract, you might want to consider treating me a little more... _civilly_.  
  
LEX  
(beat)  
You obviously came here for a reason.   
  
SHERIDAN  
Quick study.  
  
LEX  
Can we get down to it?  
  
SHERIDAN  
Lex Luthor, fair warning. I'm on Vicodin and feeling invincible.   
(beat)  
I have a business proposition for you.   
  
LEX  
I'm listening.  
  
SHERIDAN  
I want out of the contract. You want me as part of your "stable". There's only one way to settle this.  
  
INT. LEX'S DEN  
  
Lex and Sheridan are engaged in a drinking contest. A near empty bottle of aged scotch sets between them. Neither Lex nor Sheridan seems on the verge of anything.  
  
LEX  
Now what?  
  
SHERIDAN  
Exactly.  
  
Lex and Sheridan, engaged in...a _staring contest_?  
  
LEX  
I'm really not that bad.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Says you.  
  
LEX  
Clark likes me.  
  
SHERIDAN  
He's young.  
  
LEX  
Is that the scotch talking?  
  
SHERIDAN  
Hardly.  
  
More staring.  
  
LEX  
More scotch?  
  
SHERIDAN  
Definitely.  
  
LEX  
I have a 9:00 meeting.  
  
SHERIDAN  
Sounds like a personal problem to me.  
  
Lex smiles. He just can't help it.  
  
Lex retrieves another bottle of aged scotch. The two start the process anew. Looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship.  
  
FADE OUT  
  



End file.
